Mike Duran's Blog, page 85

Counting Cusswords

The Blind Side contains 10 sexual references, 3 scatological terms, 8 anatomical terms, and 7 mild obscenities.

No, I'm not the one who counted them. Leave that to some Christian watchdog group. I mean, who else counts cuss words?

For instance, in 2005, Family Media Guide rated Oscar-nominated films and awarded Crash with the most profanity in the category of a Best Motion Picture. The movie contained a whopping 182 incidents of foul language, twice as much as its nearest competitor, which happened to be Brokeback Mountain with 92 expletives. However, Brokeback did trump Crash in two categories: 28 episodes of cigarette smoking compared to 6, and 22 incidents of sex opposed to 16.

I suppose these kinds of moral grading systems on films or books is helpful to some, but to me they create more questions than answers.

For example, when I was growing up, my parents banned the word "crap" from my vocabulary. Being the only kid on the block having such a muzzle seemed unfair. I mean, "poop" just didn't cut it. Nowadays, however, "crap" doesn't carry the same weight. (Neither does "poop" come to think of it.)

It's true of many terms. For instance, it used to be that if someone "sucked" they were performing a sexual act. However, the use of that term has changed. Now…

Your screenplay sucks.
Your work sucks.
Math sucks.
Americans suck.
You suck.

In fact, actor Dennis Leary even challenges us to Suck On.

Which leaves me wondering, Is "suck" a bad word anymore?

Okay, so the acceptance (or rejection) of swearwords is often dependent upon one's era, geography, culture or lack thereof. One of my all-time favorite reads is G.K. Chesterton's, The Man Who Was Thursday, a brilliant apologetic fable which is routinely considered his greatest work of fiction. Chesterton was an avowed Christian. Nevertheless, the novel is sprinkled with mild expletives like "go to hell" (ch. 9), "damn it all" (ch. 2), and my favorite, "You great fat, blasted, blear-eyed, blundering, thundering, brainless, Godforsaken, doddering, damned fool!" (ch. 10). I'm unsure what has happened in the century since that book was first published, yet I can't help but wonder if Chesterton's masterpiece would survive the scalpels of contemporary Christian editors.

The same is true for the Bible. For instance, Jesus called Herod a "fox" in Luke 13:32—a term which, culturally, could have meant anything from clown, to jerk, to jackass. In fact, some religious folks are shocked to discover that old King James's version of Scripture can get a bit dicey. Forget about "pee"—the good king goes straight to "pisseth" (I Sam. 25:22, I Kings 14:10, II Kings 9:8 KJV). Furthermore, "ass" and "bastard" are employed frequently in the earlier editions of God's Word (which also includes examples of asses and bastards in living color).

This presents an interesting dichotomy: Even if I read the Old KJV and believe it, I cannot write like it and still be published in some Christian circles.

So while most of us would agree about the inappropriateness of certain expletives, as well as biblical exhortations to mind our manners, inevitably, each of us must draw lines concerning what is and is not offensive. But who's drawing them and where they're drawn is another story.

For instance, what amount of cussing (or sex or smoking) is unacceptable? If you live in a monastery, probably all of it. On the other hand, I work with a group of guys who speak only in four-letter words. Were I to demand they filter their filth, I'd become a laughingstock. Or unemployed. So perhaps it depends on what world you live in. For most of us, all variations of the "F-word" are unacceptable. (Although nowadays, people use "flippin'", "freakin'" and "friggin'" to the same end. Should these words be outlawed too?)

Note: I have heard from some publishers that flippin' is allowable, but friggin' is not. Why? Friggin is phonetically closer to the F-word in its various constructions.

Anyway, it makes me wonder whether or not we've sorely missed the mark, whether or not we are straining at gnats and swallowing camels (Matt. 23:24). Instead of celebrating quality craftsmanship and engaging the world with our stories, we've become moral policemen, cruising the movie theater or book store, passing out citations for the most "asses," "F-words" and cigarettes smoked.

I once heard a preacher open his sermon by saying, "The world is going to hell and most of you don't give a damn." After a pregnant, rather uncomfortable pause, he said, "And the problem is, most of you are more concerned I just said 'damn,' than that the world is going to hell."

I wonder that the same applies to Christians in the arts.

Like my idol, Chesterton, I yearn for the glorious day when I can raise my literary voice and say without fear of censure:  "You great fat, blasted, blear-eyed, blundering, thundering, brainless, Godforsaken, doddering, damned fool!"

But sadly, I fear that day is a long way off.

Gorilla Moments

Leslie Hand, founder of Movie Glimpse, tells the story about a Catholic woman working on the set of E.T., and the brief exchange she had with director Steven Spielberg. During filming, Melissa Mathison and the cinematographer suddenly realized the similarities between the plot and the story of Jesus Christ. "His being left on earth, being found, his apostles, dying, the resurrection. We were cracking up when we figured out that one. When we told Steven [Spielberg], he said, 'I'm Jewish, and I don't want to hear anything about this.'"

Professor Richard Wiseman would refer to this as a gorilla moment. The concept is developed in his book, Did You Spot the Gorilla? How to Recognize Hidden Opportunities. The synopsis explains:

In a recent series of ground-breaking psychological experiments, volunteers were shown a 30-second film of some people playing basketball and told to count the number of passes made with the ball. After just a few seconds, a man dressed as a gorilla slowly walked into frame, beat his chest at the camera, and sauntered off. Unbelievably, almost none of the people watching the film noticed the gorilla. Exactly the same psychological mechanisms that cause people to miss the gorilla also make them miss unexpected but vitally important opportunities in their professional and personal lives.

I think the good professor's on to something.

When it comes to contemporary culture, Christians are often guilty of missing the Gorilla. David Dark, in his book Everyday Apocalypse, suggests that spiritual truths permeate pop culture. To the observant eye, the sacred is everywhere. Dark purports that musical artists like Beck, Radiohead and U2, films like The Matrix and The Truman Show, and TV programs like The Simpsons all reflect subtle, subversive Kingdom principles. But rather than relishing these gorilla moments, Christians often resort to counting curse words and frowning upon accompanying indecencies. To some, it doesn't matter that Bono is dangerously close preaching the Gospel—what matters is that he cursed three times in the process.

The Christian author must be adept at spotting the Gorilla, looking beyond the crude and commonplace, the ordinary and the run-of-the-mill, to affirm the God Who is There.

One of Jesus' favorite lines was, "The kingdom of heaven is like…" (Matthew 13: 24, 31, 33, 44, 47). According to Christ, the kingdom of heaven was like wheat and tares, seeds and soil, birds and flowers—it was right there if they only opened their eyes. That's a gorilla moment, when suddenly the kingdom of God isn't a vague concept, it's the field ripe for harvest, the sparrow building its nest, or the tears of a penitent son.

In Acts 17, the Apostle Paul stood at the altar of the Unknown God and said,

Now what you worship as something unknown I am going to proclaim to you. (Acts 17:23 NIV)

He then proceeded to quote the pagan poet Menander: "'For in him we live, and move, and have our being.' As some of your own poets have said, 'We are his offspring'" (Acts 17:28). Rather than rebuke their unenlightened mythology, Paul peeled back the literary skin to disclose the real Object of their longing.

Perhaps this is one of the charges of the Christian writer—to unveil the Unknown God. Jesus did this not by sermonizing, but by storytelling. Author Tim Downs, during last year's keynote address to the ACFW national conference, noted the important distinction between stories and sermons. "Stories go places that sermons never can," said Downs. And while  "thou shalt not" touches the head, "Once upon a time" touches the heart.

Maybe this is why Jesus told as many stories as He did sermons. He spoke of rich idiots and impoverished saints, bad stewards and good Samaritans. Christ's parables were anything but feel-good moralistic tomes. At times, they left their hearers with unhinged jaws. Jesus roused the religious gatekeepers by absolving prostitutes and vilifying the cultural elites. In doing so, He shocked His audience into the realization of the Gorilla in their midst.

Not only must we forge whopping good tales, we must populate them with gorilla moments. And really, they're all around us. Pop culture is awash with His fingerprints. Whether it's E.T. rising from the dead, Ahab sinking with his obsession or Darth Vader returning from the Dark Side, we need not look far for echoes of redemption, harbingers of the coming Kingdom. "For now we see through a glass, darkly…" (I Cor. 13:12). Yes. But to the keen eye and the open heart, there are gorillas everywhere.

Book Signing

Saturday was my first book signing ever and it was a huge success. Thanks to all who attended and helped put it together. Unless you're a household name or have a cult following, book signings can be awkward and hit-or-miss. Being an unknown, first-time author, I did not have lofty expectations for a book signing. However, after considerable persuasion from my wife, the Barnes and Noble Community Relations rep agreed to purchase 50 copies of The Resurrection (she initially ordered just 25). Well, not only did we sell out, but a dozen-plus additional copies were ordered. It was a lot of fun and incredibly humbling. (The rep even suggested we come back for a follow-up signing!) Anyway, I am currently feeling blessed and thankful for the opportunities this writing gig has afforded me. I wonder where it'll end up…

Win a Copy of "The Resurrection" for You & a Friend

In celebration of Valentine's Day and my book signing this weekend, I'm giving away six signed copies of The Resurrection — one copy for three winners, and one copy for a friend of their choosing. There are two requirements for entry: (1) You agree to post a review of the book (at least 200 words) on your blog and Amazon and (2) You provide the name and email (or other contact info) of a friend who you think might enjoy this book. (And please, someone other than immediate family members or fellow bloggers!). NOTE: NO contact info is sold or used for anything other than stated here! Contest closes Sunday at midnight. I will contact winners via email. You must have your friend's contact info ready at that time and I will send the book in your name. To enter, just leave your name and the name of the person you would like to receive a copy of the book if you win. I will randomly select three names Monday AM. Thanks for participating and have a great weekend!

Weekend News!

I wanted to update you on several big things I've got going on this weekend. Saturday and Sunday I'll be doing a book giveaway on this website — 6 signed copies of The Resurrection, with a little Valentine's Day twist. Check back in tomorrow for details.

Also, Saturday afternoon I'll be doing my first book signing at our local Barnes and Noble, from 1-3 p.m. As much as I dislike hawking my wares, I am really encouraged by the response I've gotten from friends, co-workers, and avid readers. For every book I sell, I'll be donating $1.00 to the Foothill Family Shelter, a fantastic local charity that helps homeless families get back on their feet. So if you happen to be in the L.A., Orange County, or Inland Empire area tomorrow, please drop by and give me a holler. Have a great weekend!

Faith, Direction, and Your "Call" to Write

Just because you're "called" to write is no guarantee you will always know which direction to go. Even those who have been writing a long time and have experienced moderate success, still ponder their craft and career:

Should I sign with this publisher?
Should I wait and continue shopping my book?
Do I need an agent?
Is my agent really helping me?
Maybe I should just self-publish.
Was I wrong for self-publishing?
Am I writing in the right genre?
Is writing a waste of time?

And the questions go on.

You're mistaken if you think that being "called" to write makes things clearer. It doesn't.

Take Abraham, the father of the faith. He didn't have all the details before he pulled up stakes.

By faith Abraham, when called to go to a place he would later receive as his inheritance, obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going (Hebrews 11:8 NIV).

Hello? He "went… not knowing where he was going"? This grates against everything I am. I abhor agenda-less meetings and rudder-less vacations. I need maps, blueprints, and timetables. This faith stuff is taxing for a control freak like me.

But I'm beginning to wonder if faith isn't the heartbeat of calling.

Blaise Pascal, in his delightful collection of musings entitled Pensees, suggested that God is both hidden and revealed. "If there were no obscurity," Pascal says, "man would not feel his corruption: if there were no light, man could not hope for a cure." So God reveals enough of Himself to make faith reasonable, but not so much of Himself, that faith is unnecessary.

The same might be true about calling — it's both hidden and revealed.

God blesses us with individual talents and giftings, hunches and impulses. But He won't force us to use those gifts and follow those hunches. In fact, we may "bury our talent" (Matt. 25) if we so choose. God points us in the general direction, but He won't drag us along the path.

In other words, the "call" is not the "answer."

I used to think that being resolved about my "call" to write would clarify things. It hasn't. Heck, sometimes hearing the "call" only makes things worse. The apostle Paul felt "called" to Rome… where he was beheaded.

Okay. Do you still feel "called"?

For many of us, it's not enough that we hear the "call" to write. What we really want is a blueprint for success, a map, a GPS, a telescope to see down the road, and a safety net to catch us if we fall. Meanwhile, we're bleeding ourselves to death through introspection, worry, or indecision.

Some of you are pondering this question right now. The frustrations have piled up alongside the rejection slips. You're questioning your talents, your story, your agent, your genre, the market… you're questioning your call to write.

But the truth is, even if you ARE called to write, you will never have all the answers.

Should Everyone "Get" You?

"But I'm just a soul whose intentions are good. Oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood." — The Animals

I recently read a blog post that slammed Amy Chua's controversial bestseller Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother. It's just part of a growing litany of criticism the author is receiving regarding her book about strict Chinese mothers and their children's academic prowess. Many take it as a tract against American values, others as a recipe for familial implosion. Some even see it as borderline child abuse. Either way, the book has proven polarizing (see the disparity in 5 star and 1 star Amazon reviews below.)

Then last week, I heard a radio interview with Ms. Chua… and my whole perspective changed. She said she was shocked by how divisive the book was becoming, and never intended it to be that way. According to the author, about 70% of readers "get" the book. They laugh. They think. The other thirty percent hate it. Just hate it. And really, there is nothing Amy Chua can do to change that perspective. People either "get" Tiger Mother, or they don't.

I recently guest posted on another website and, as the comments came in, found myself scratching my head. Did these folks "get" me? I felt they were totally missing my point. It was frustrating and I initially opted just to leave the objections unanswered. Nevertheless,  I eventually returned to clarify where I thought I was being misunderstood and what I actually meant.

Which is like explaining a joke — after that, it just ain't funny.

If you blog or participate in social networking, it's only a matter of time before someone doesn't "get" you. They miss your humor. They misinterpret your sarcasm. They draw conclusions you never intended. They charge you with being mean, rude, contentious, profane, or misguided. And you find yourself having to clarify, backtrack, or apologize. You know this feeling, right?

Well, I'm starting to wonder if this isn't a good thing. Perhaps everyone shouldn't "get" you, and the more you try to make them, the more you lose something of yourself.

My wife has noted that my older son, Chris, loves my sense of humor. I will say something wry and witty, and no one else in the room will laugh. Except Chris. Question: Is this a bad thing? Sure, maybe I need to work on my timing or evaluate my vocabulary. Or perhaps my humor is too dry or too highbrow. Then again, maybe that's a special bond that Chris and I have. He "gets" me.

I think the same might be true of our readers. Sure, there is always room to be clearer, more diplomatic, and less snarky. Nevertheless, could it be that the sacred part of friendship, of readership, and fandom, is having others who "get" you?

And others who don't?

You know, some have built a career around being misunderstood. The legendary director Francois Truffaut said this about a notable contemporary, "Hitchcock loves to be misunderstood, because he has based his whole life around misunderstandings." It's true of many successful people, be they commentators, performers, or entrepreneurs — nobody always "gets" them.

Does this bother you? I mean, should everyone always "get" you?

Of course, this isn't meant as a license for rudeness or cliquishness. I mean, the fact that people don't "get" you could mean you're doing something wrong. Maybe your humor is too dry, your intellect is too highbrow, or your communication skills suck. It also could mean you're just not funny. So, yes, we should seek to be understood. However, the worst thing we could do — especially as a blogger or an author — is to constantly have to explain ourselves and dumb our stuff down. As far as I can tell, people who excel are more about being themselves than constantly apologizing for it.

In fact, if you have to explain yourself to everyone who doesn't "get" you, they probably still won't.

I use a lot of sarcasm. I tend to be cynical, pessimistic, and over-think things. I believe in lifting my hands in worship, having a cold beer, laughing, and hugging people. I believe in logic and evidence. I believe that if we stand for nothing, we'll fall for anything. I am not afraid to speak my mind and believe that sacred cows make great main courses. I hate having enemies, but know I will make some. I use too many adjectives. I believe people die incrementally, and shocking them may save their lives. Some people have stopped reading my blog because of these things.

What can I say?

So I'm thinking that the more we try to make sure everyone "gets" us, the more we lose our uniqueness. If you just be yourself, some people won't "get" you. Deal with it. Because not being yourself is ultimately worse than being occasionally misunderstood.

* * *

QUESTION: How important do you think it is for a blogger and an author to avoid being misunderstood? Is it tactically better to try to be understood by more people, or cultivate a niche of folks who "get" you? Is there a difference between people "getting" you and understanding you? What percentage of people "get" you?

Is There a Conspiracy Against Christian Art?

Is there a conspiracy against Christian art? Do atheistic gatekeepers conspire to suppress the Christian message and keep it from mainstream audiences? Are Christian artists unjustly targeted for censure in ways that others aren't? Is there a double standard in the marketplace when it comes to religious and "secular" (or anti-religious) rhetoric? Is "agenda" just as prevalent in the general market as the religious market?

Or are Christians full of it?

It is not uncommon to hear "horror stories" from Christian artists about what they feel is discrimination. I recently received a comment from someone who referenced two Christian authors, both of whom were asked by general market publishers to remove explicit Christian content from their stories. They refused. Result: Goodbye general market. Do things like this really happen and, if so, what say you about it?

Nevertheless, even if there is a conspiracy against Christian art, it does us little good to complain about it. In fact, the conspiracy may be one of our own making.

Barbara Nicolosi founded Act One, a program to train screenwriters and Hollywood executives to produce quality films that connect with audiences of faith. In an interview with the Houston Chronicle, she made these observations:

"Honestly, I didn't start out to fix Hollywood," said Nicolosi, who has a master's degree in film from Northwestern University. "I started out to fix the church in the arts."

After two years of "reading hundreds and hundreds of horrible scripts" at a Catholic movie production company, Nicolosi concluded that Christian screenwriters were their own worst enemies.

"They had nothing but arrogance and ignorance, and self-righteousness to boot," the outspoken Nicolosi said. "They were screaming about how Hollywood was persecuting Christians. I realized Christians were not being martyred in Hollywood; they were committing suicide.

"We were being embarrassed by Christians who were writing works that were substandard and saying the Holy Spirit inspired them to do it."

Christians commonly assume that the secular media is out to silence them. The perception that publishers, celebrities and Hollywood execs are anti-Christian is status-quo in many faith communities. Which makes Ms. Nicolosi's opinion all the more interesting.

I'm not one to cede conspiracies, but I happen to believe that positive religious themes and traditional values do not get a fair shake on prime time. But does this justify our belly-aching? In this way, Nicolosi's observations are helpful. In fact, I wonder that most Christian artists would be better off — even if they believed a conspiracy was alive and well — by acting as if it were NOT true.

Let's face it — it's much easier to pin the lack of "Christian witness" on the presence of atheistic gatekeepers, rather than the absence of a quality product. And Hollyweird is an easy scapegoat. But, according to Nicolosi, the absence of a "Christian presence" in the arts may have less to do with a conspiracy, and more to do with mediocrity.

Could it really be that "Christians [are] not being martyred in Hollywood; they [are] committing suicide"? The same could be asked of Christian artists in any field — music, literature, theater. Have we deceived ourselves into believing we are not at fault? Are we too eager to blame our "bad fortune" on the godless gatekeepers? Are we "writing works that [are] substandard and saying the Holy Spirit inspired [us] to do it"?

How one answers those questions is important. The person who's convinced the system has it out for him, will often spend as much time bitching as working to improve his craft. Perhaps it's time for a tactical adjustment. Instead of fretting over some satanic cabal, we should strive to produce the highest quality art possible.

* * *

Question: Do you think there is a "conspiracy" against Christian art? Do you think there is a double-standard in the media toward religious-themed work? Or do you believe, like Ms. Nicolosi suggests, that we commit "artistic suicide" and worry far too much about conspiracy and not enough about quality?

The Bomb Under the Sofa

A couple walks on stage, sits on a couch and begins talking. She says he's stopped caring. He says she's insecure. Blah, blah, blah. Meanwhile, the audience starts yawning. Rewind the scenario. A man sneaks on stage, plants a ticking time bomb under the couch and slithers away. Then the couple walks out, sits down and has the exact same conversation. But now the audience is riveted.

Bombs can do wonders for our stories.

This simple illustration was employed by Wells Root, an old Hollywood screenwriter, in his book Writing the Script, to note the importance of conflict in storytelling. Conflict has a way of making even the most mundane activity more interesting. People just do not pay attention unless there's a bomb under the sofa… or some equivalent.

Conflict in storytelling is often divided into two parts: Internal conflict and External conflict. In other words, not only should the protagonist be sitting on a time bomb, she should BE one.

Donald Maass, author of Writing the Breakout Novel, puts it this way:

Every protagonist needs a torturous need, a consuming fear, an aching regret, a visible dream, a passionate longing, an inescapable ambition, an exquisite lust, an inner lack, a fatal weakness, an unavoidable obligation, an iron instinct, an irresistible plan,a noble ideal, an undying hope...

These "torturous needs" and "exquisite lusts" are the internal time bombs that make our characters interesting. Question: Do your characters have any of them?

And if there is internal conflict and external conflict, joining those two can only ratchet the tension. When we combine volatile people with difficult situations, things get interesting. The writer's job is not just to create explosive characters, but to place them in contexts where their volatility is tapped.

Maass again:

Trials and tests are the stuff of character building, of conflict. Ask yourself, who is the one ally your protagonist cannot afford to lose? Kill that character. What is your protagonist's greatest physical asset? Take it away. What is the one article of faith that for your protagonist is sacred? Undermine it. How much time does your protagonist have to solve the main problem? Shorten it.

In other words, stack the deck.

I recently re-watched Peter's Jackson's, King Kong, and witnessed a perfect example of how to stack the deck against your hero. In this case, Kong (yes, King Kong is the hero). The likable giant ape fights numerous foes in the new film. But the sequences in which K. battles the T. Rex are incredible. (If only the whole movie were that good.) Anyway, in the original 1933 version, Kong also fought the man-eater. But Jackson puts his own unique twist on the dreaded standoff. He pits the ape, not against one T. Rex, or two. But three. And it doesn't stop there. The skirmish sends all of them, including Kong's lady-friend, tumbling into a chasm where they become suspended in prehistoric vines. So here we have King Kong fighting three dinosaurs and trying to protect his woman, while swinging precariously between a canyon. Talk about upping the ante!

So it's not enough to pit your protag against a villain. The villain must be elastic, invisible, merciless, or a disgruntled Tea-Partier. Furthermore, the hero must be handicapped, internally and externally. She must be fearful, unsure of herself, teetering toward despair AND wounded, temporarily blind, or missing her prosthetic leg. But don't stop there. The villain can fight her on a sinking submarine, in a burning oil refinery, or at the MTV music awards between two opposing rapper's entourages. Hey, let your imagination run wild.

Just don't forget to put the time bomb under the sofa.

* * *

Question: Do your stories lean more toward internal or external conflict? Have you ever found it difficult to kill a character, and if so, why? Can you think of other examples of a character being pummeled by overwhelming odds? Could your WIP benefit from the strategic placement of a time bomb?

Book Giveaway & Interview

A couple of cool announcements.

Today over at Novel Journey I am giving away two signed copies of The Resurrection. The book releases tomorrow. My only qualification for entering the contest is that the winner posts a 200-word or longer review on their blog / website and Amazon.  Midnight tonight is the deadline so hurry on over.

Also, I am the Featured Interview this month at Jeff Gerke's wildly popular Where the Map Ends. Interestingly enough, Jeff reveals something I've kept under wraps. In 2009, while shopping my m/s, Jeff offered me a contract for the story. After considerable angst, I turned him down. Time has proven it was a good move but, back then, I was VERY conflicted. Anyway, in the interview we talk a lot about the state of CBA-related spec-fic. Check it out, if interested.